


Horseshoe throwing for idiots

by TheCrimsonValley



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Dorks, Gen, Happy, Just dorks being dorks, One Big Happy Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26287081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrimsonValley/pseuds/TheCrimsonValley
Summary: My work for the RDR fanzine "Bury me not".Jack asks for some help with throwing horseshoes and accidentally launches a rivalry between Arthur and John.
Kudos: 18





	Horseshoe throwing for idiots

”Get your arm into it boy!”

One thing was for certain, what John Marston did not have in his head he had in his voice, Arthur thought. He was grasped by the certainty that any nearby woodland critters must have been shaken out of their sleep by now. Even so this was what had come to be recognized as the other man's softer tone.

With his mug of coffee tightly held between his fingers, he started the rather easily solved treasure hunt for just where Marston had gone off to this time. Rare was the moment when one could get an hour or two around camp for leisurely activities and he was well aware that they all would jump on any possible opening for some relaxation time. While following the rather vocal commands, Arthur made sure to look as busy as possible, a skill he had learnt since young legs to avoid the wrath of Miss Grimshaw.

Stepping out of the direct campground, he soon spotted Marston's frame. With just a hint of surprise in his mind, he took note of the fact that little Jack stood by his father’s side. Of course, there was still the endless debate about fatherhood and responsibility, a charade that he was certain most of the people around camp had grown tired of about a month after the boy's birth.  
First when he was almost up by their sides was he able to see what kept them so occupied. Along the grass laid several old horseshoes, all having a good couple of feet between them and the stick that had been shoved into the ground rather haphazardly. Unable to keep his snarky comments to himself any longer, Arthur chuckled.

“Marston, you waiting for the horses to walk by and shoe themselves now?”

The look upon John's face was priceless and well worth its weight in gold. There only came that general grumble, a mix of several words into one that made absolutely no sense. What the older man lacked in expression was well made up for by the young lad standing at his side, whose lips had cracked up into a wide smile.

“Uncle Arthur, Pa's showing me how to throw the horseshoes really far!”

Almost as if it was a reflex, he heard Marston give a light grumble, perhaps mostly to himself of “don't call me that...”. Arthur himself made sure to pay it no mind as he instead moved up and, without standing on ceremony, lifted a horseshoe of his own.

“Is he now?” He said, throwing the shoe up into the air before catching it. “Let's give him a run for his money then, shall we?”

Letting the weight settle in, he swung his arm back and forth a couple of times. Long enough to garner him a comment of “Ya gonna stand about like a clock pendulum all day?”. Sending the horseshoe flying, he felt satisfaction in his heart as he watched John quickly shut his mouth at about the same time the shoe made impact with the pole.

“Beginner’s luck.” Marston's attempt at saving the situation came off as nothing short of comical yet Arthur just gave a sideways grin and a nod towards Jack.

The lad's eyes had by now widened in amazement, yet he was given no room for a reply before his father had once more gained his composure.

“Besides” John said out loud, moving towards the goal post “that was an easy one!”

Rolling his shoulders, Arthur remained silent. It was punishment enough, at least for someone like Marston, that experience had told him. With his arms folded over his chest, he watched how John grabbed a hold of one of the shoes, clenching it as if his life had depended on it before sending it flying through the air. As it made impact with the pole, nothing short of a war cry left John’s lips as he spun around.

“Told ya!”

“So, you set yerself up in a good spot and want me to be impressed?” Arthur scoffed “That’s cute Marston.”

He could almost feel the large amount of air that the other man drew into his lungs, puffing his chest out. The game was on. There was no doubt about it and Arthur found himself amused to no end. Without any prompt or quips this time, Marston dashed forward to grasp the pole. Much to Arthur’s surprise, and the glee of little Jack, he watched how the other man slammed it into a nearby tree, burying it deep within the bark.

“Good enough for ya, Arthur?”

Trying to regain his composure, he adjusted the brim of his hat while muttering“Fine by me”. Would he back out now, he knew all too well that John would never let him live this down . While hoping to the high heavens for some damn luck for once, he reached for the horseshoe once more.

Not a shred of surprise went through him as he sent it flying, only for the shoe to smack the side of the tree. Before it had the chance to pathetically slide down to the ground, he already heard Marston snigger before pushing him out of the way. While trying to hold on to what little dignity he had left, Arthur once more crossed his arms. Soon enough a triumphant smile came over him as he watched John’s horseshoe take the exact same path as his own.

“There you all are.”

As they were both about to reach for another set of shoes, Abigail broke through the trees. For a faint second, Arthur was about to call it a tie and leave it at that. One glance to his side however, made him aware that Marston was not about to do the same.

“It’s well past dinner time.” she continued while moving up to Jack’s side.

“Just a minute longer ma, dad and uncle Arthur aren’t done yet.”

Her glance of disapproval was one that Arthur himself chose to avoid like the plague. While averting his eyes, he followed her gaze over towards the tree, then to the spread horseshoes on the ground and back onto them. Before she had the chance to make any inquiries however, Marston had stepped forward. His demeanor told Arthur everything he needed to know: he was either too brave or too stupid to care about Abigail’s judgemental look.

“We’ll come when we’re done!” John grumbled.

For a split-second Arthur started to plan the other man’s funeral in his head. There was however no time for him to make any comment: be it to berate the other man or to smooth the situation over. With a stunned expression, he watched how Abigail stormed over to her husband's side, ripping the horseshoe out of his grasp. With a swing that would make most gunslingers blush, she hurled the horseshoe forward and a smile of pure triumph slid over her lips as the shoe elegantly slid right onto the nail.

“There, now you’re done. Dinner time.”


End file.
